Brownies
by coffeecrazycats
Summary: Ahsoka makes brownies for Rex. (Oneshot)
**Hello! Sorry that I have not updated recently, I will try to update more often. Constructive criticism and reviews are, as always, welcome.**

 **(This story isn't as good as the others I have written. I am writing this on very little sleep.) Sorry!**

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Ahsoka had been baking.

That alone should have set off warning bells in Rex's head.

Ahsoka with lightsbers = Good.

Ahsoka with a mixer = bad

Instead he stared at the padawan, trying to decide whether or not he should make an excuse, run for it, or just get whatever the commander wanted him to do or say over with. He chose the third choice. After a long night of restless sleep, he could face Ahsoka, even if she had been baking.

The teenager was currently dragging his gloved hand into the mess, looking slightly like a crazed maniac.

Rex grimaced. Yep. He defiantly should have have went with the first or the second options.

Ahsoka beamed at him, saying "I'll be right back!" Before scampering back behind the steel sliding doors to get whatever she was going to get. Rex edged toward the mess hall doors. The first option would be a good thing to do right now. He should run for it.

But then he remembered the kid's flushed face, her sapphire eyes glittering with barely contained excitement. If she came out and saw that he wasn't here, what would happen to that face? He frowned, feeling more than a little guilty. Her smile would droop, and her sienna skin would loose it's luster as she realized that he had had abandoned her. And her eyes... they would turn from the color of the sky to the shade of rain in a heartbeat. He didn't want to disappoint her or make her unhappy. She would be both if she came back from the kitchen and realized that he was not there.

So Rex, subduing the instincts that told him to flee, sat down at the white ceramic table of the abandoned cafeteria and looked around. The mess hall was alabaster white, decorated only with other plain white tables, benches and a few silver salt and pepper shakers lying randomly out. The kitchen door was west of him, right next to the table where he usually went to grab some grub in the mornings, evenings, and around noon. Usually it was a rather lighthearted place. But now, dreading the concoction Ahsoka would make him eat and feeling so lonely, it was like a punch to the gut, the cafeteria felt rather foreboding. Not to mention the time.

He checked the clock. Midnight. Right now, he was usually snoring in his bunk, the soothing noise of the ship's engines lulling him to sleep. Instead, he had decided to drink some caff at dinner and well... he knew how that turned out. He had taken a walk, ran into Ahsoka, and came here. Rex rubbed the top of his shaved head. The surface was fuzzy and kinda soft. Ahsoka had one described it as "like feathers." (Yes, Ahsoka had felt his hair.) It had been a really, really, weird day. The clone shrugged. Kinda like now.

Ahsoka strolled out of the kitchen, beaming, carrying a tray. And on that tray...

Crap. Literally. It looked like waste.

Rex looked at the kid, hoping to see her laughing, hoping to see that this was somehow a sick joke. But no, her smile was still there, lighting up the room like a mini-sun. This wasn't a prank. Rex took a big breath, steadying himself. He'd have to eat it.

He mentally shrugged. Oh well. He'd do it for Ahsoka's sake. He'd eaten worse. Even the rations he ate on missions probably tasted more horrid than the waste.

So Rex slowly, gingerly, lifted up the brown piece of waste up to his mouth, hesitated, and ate it.

And... It wasn't awful. In fact, it was actually pretty good. Waste, good. He swallowed a relieved laugh... and the food as he shoved the rest of the "waste" inside. It tasted thick and sweet and chocolaty, like... like... Like nothing else he had ever tasted before.

Like heaven.

Rex took another and another, inhaling them as fast as he could. (Which for Rex, was very, very fast.) Delicious.

Ahsoka's smile grew more and more amused until she placed a hand on Rex's as he reached for another one.

"Rex." He stopped and looked at her.

"I think that's enough. You're going to make yourself sick."

The clone captain flushed red, brown crumbs covering his cheeks like goatee. The esteemed, experienced solider looked like a little boy in a candy shop. Or, in this case, a brownie bakery. (Well, not exactly a bakery either. More like a kitchen) Ahsoka stifled another grin.

Rex looked at her, wiping his face. "What is it?"

Ahsoka beamed with delight. He liked them!

"Brownies."

~o(0)o~

The sky was a moist yellow and dotted with wisps of pearly clouds, like melted butter, when Rex finally escaped to the barracks.

She was Gone.

Ahsoka was Gone.

He put his head in his hands and cried, tears falling onto his cheeks and onto the cold, cruel metal below. Gone.

Ahsoka, the girl who had been his friend, who had made him brownies, who had smiled like the sun, Gone. She had left him. He wiped his bloodshot eyes.

Then he saw something. Rex turned to look at his left. And there, sitting next to his helmet, still warm and steaming, were a pile of soft, chocolate, ooey-gooey brownies.

A small smile wavered and wobbled, but stayed there as he he bit into the divine dessert.

Soon, the brownies were gone too.


End file.
